


Not Surprised

by dickyoongi



Category: South Park
Genre: Death by weapon, GUYS I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST STAN DONT KNOW WHY I ALWAYS WRITE HIM LIKE THIS, Implied One-sided Loves, Implied homophobic language and such, Just read, M/M, and stuff insues, homophobic behavior?, i don’t know what to write here, like he just realizing he killed someone, oh btw some of the characters are implied also, the story is written in intended lowercase, this is basically stan killed someone, this was fun to write, you don’t know 100 percent what goin on until the end so enjoy heck, y’all i’m sick so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 07:04:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12600992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickyoongi/pseuds/dickyoongi
Summary: Stan killed someone. who, why and how?





	Not Surprised

**Author's Note:**

> uhm, violence, for like two words worth
> 
> it’s like implied violence  
> THERES BLOOD THO  
> so
> 
> not edited.

“you know, i’m not really that surprised you murdered him.”

stan runs his hand into his hair unthinkingly, blood smearing into the strands, staining his scalp. he paces back and forth. three steps, turn, three steps, turn, thr— stan pauses, one hand still in his hair, the other gripping onto the incriminating weapon. “h-he is not dead.”

a figure exhales and floats over to the dead body, watching for any signs of life, a chest rise, finger twitch, thump of a heart, “definitely dead, dude.”

the weapon shatters to the ground of the alley, landing in a puddle of the lifeless boy’s blood. “you’re lying.” stan states, eyes wide.

“kids dead, stan.” the figure gestures to the former classmate, “check for yourself—“

stan stumbles back, “i’m not touching him,” a nervous chuckle,” my DNA isn’t— it’s not going anywhere near him.”

the mystery boy raises a brow and nods to the ground, “and the bat?”

“what about the bat?” stan grits, his voice coming out coarse and broken, almost a sob.

“your hands aren’t covered, your ‘DNA’ was not concealed,” the guy drags a transparent hand down the side of his face, “you gripped that bat so tight, i wouldn’t be surprised if your genetics were physically laced into the wood.”

stan nods frantically, shaking hands reaching down to pick up the bat. “right.”

“don’t even get me started on that handwriting, someone could track that in a heart beat.” the figure huffs, “doesn’t help that you swirl the bottoms of your g’s and y’s.”

stan glares, knuckles paling around the weapon as he listens. his sight going hazy, his mind thumping, his stomach dropping with unwanted guilt.

“and what you wrote.” he whistles, “i mean seriously, i understand your not comfortable with your sexuality—“

“enough!”

“—but to write that kind of shit on his own bat, and hit him over the head with it, repeatedly. jeez, talk about getting him ready for the real world, am i righ—“

“i said enough!”

the mystery boy narrows his eyes, dancing around stan in circles, scrutinizing him, “why are you so upset, stan?” he traces his fingers lightly over the cut on stans lip, where the victim had got one, good, solid, punch in, before being hit with the final blow, “you did it.”

stan flinches, “i—“

“you?” the boy let’s his fingers drop, “you, murdered him out of spite, jealousy, no?”

“no- he, he deserved it!”

“why?” the figure questions, ripping the bat out of stans hands, “because he had a boyfriend?”

“because you couldn’t stand the fact that he was so loved and happy, and comfortable.” stan goes to speak, but the figure continues over him, “because you couldn’t stand yourself?”

“what do you-“

“you loved kyle.” the figure tilts his head, scanning stans face as he draws silent, bitting on his bottom lip, reopening the cut and drawing blood. “you did, didn’t you?”

“no!—“

“but he didn’t love you back.” the boy laughs, short and dry. “but he,” he gestures to the body on the floor, “he was happy. and you couldn’t stand it.”

“stop! kenny that’s not true!”

“what’s not true?” a few beats of silence tick by, “tell me, what’s not true about my story?”

“i didn’t- he- i’m not—“

“gay?”

stans head falls down, in an almost shameful way. “yes.”

“yes what stan? are you or are you not gay?”

“i’m not!”

“so if kyle were to, oh i don’t know, ask you out, you wouldn’t say yes?” stan swallows and nods stiffly.

“so, you don’t want to kiss him, run your hands up and down his tall frame, as he twitches beneath your fingers? listen to his voice, his moans, as you trace a path down his chest and—“

“god, shut up, shut up, shut up!” stan squeezes his eyes shut and slaps his hands to his ears, his chant never ending, “shut up, shut up, shut up.”

kenny watches his friend, he waits and lets stan beat himself up, get lost his thoughts. it’s the least he can do for the former classmate. 

after awhile, gentle hands pull stans own down from his ears, “shh, stan, you wouldn’t want anyone to find you.” a fuzzy voice whispers to him, forehead laid softly against his, “especially not his boyfriend.”

stan whines in the back of his throat, tears falling freely down his cheeks.

“or his mother, father, his sister,” he sighs, “man you really messed up their lives, huh?”

stan falls to his knees, slipping out of kennys hold. blood splashing up and soaking into his jeans. “im sorry.”

his hands shake as he grips the dark haired boy, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m sorry,” his head falls, resting against the unmoving chest. “i’m sorry, .”

it was the least kenny could do, before he let stan run free.

he yanks stan up by the arm, “go.”

“wha-“

“i said go! someone’s coming.”

stan glances back at the victim, “bu-“ 

kenny pushes him, sending him stumbling toward the back of the ally, “i said run, you’ll get caught soon or later, for now, go fucking do all the things you ever wanted to before you get arrested.”

stan wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, nodding. his feet already making quick work towards the exit. “thanks, kenny.”

“don’t thank me yet.”

just as stan rounds the corner a women in her late twenties sees the body and reports it to the police. they arrive seven minutes later and quickly approach the body.

they all disperse, collecting blood samples, shoe prints, any objects in the area that might give them even a hint as to who did it.

“looks to be only one body.” a officer addresses to a radio then turns back to the boy, “beaten to death with some sort of blunt object, kinda looks like tucker’s kid, but the facial damage to heavy to be sure.”

they never did catch him.


End file.
